See Part One for story details.
They turned again and walked along the embankment with the Thames to their right, it's murky waters churning with the movement of the many vessels that traversed the waterway. Small row boats vied for space with larger ships that delivered people, goods and even cattle to the centre of London. It was loud and smelly and Jenny loved it. Vastra tensed a little but Jenny held on to her arm and lead them easily through the pockets of humanity that dotted the route.
Most of them were rushing one way or another and took very little notice of the two women, though a few inclined their heads in greeting as they passed. Jenny took it all in, feeling Vastra relax at her side and sensing that her companion was ready to talk.
"You alright there, Madame?"
"I am, my dear, I thank you."
"Anything come to mind?" Jenny smiled up into the veiled face.
"One or two things, though I sense that there is much more to this business than has presented itself at yet."
"You're probably right, it all smells as fishy as this place."
The two women looked out across the Thames to the pleasure gardens on the Southbank, the Victoria Embankment Gardens behind them. Vastra marvelled that these humans who insisted on building ever large connurbations - with all their stench and noise - were mindful of the pleasures of a simple piece of green land. It gave her hope for the creatures, though perhaps not a very great deal of it.
They walked on a little way and the sounds of the usual London hustle and bustle seemed to be magnified. Jenny craned her neck to see what was going on ahead but decided the commotion was a little further off than she would manage to spy. She looked around again, noting the Needle with more interest now that she knew a little of the place from whence it came.
They passed Waterloo Bridge and walked on towards the Temple area of the city, home of England's legal profession. Another pretty garden hid the den of lawyers beyond. The noise was louder now and as they turned with the bend of the river, they could see that there was a gathering of people ahead.
Jenny felt Vastra stiffen again but sensed that it was from more than a dislike of human crowds. She felt it too, a charge in the air around the group. And now that she came to think about it, the smell was particularly strong here too. Stronger even than the normal Thames reek.
They quickened their pace and approached the crowd, noting the presence of more than one member of the local Constabulary. Jenny looked around to see if she could find their young Detective Constable in amongst it all. There were people down on the waterline, the tide was ebbing away again but still high and the men had their trousers rolled to the knees.
There were a couple of women out there too, women that Jenny recognised as tide-waitresses. The women - not nearly as old as they first appeared - dredged up what they could from the flotsam of the river, peddling it to anyone who would give them a few coins for it or trading it for some other piece of worthless ligan that had washed up with the tide.
By the sound of it, whatever had washed up was anything but lost cargo. There was some very distinct screaming now and much wailing too. The crowd ebbed and flowed as much as the river and as it fell back alittle, the two women had their first glimpse of what held the crowd's horrified attention.
The river ran red. Not in some metaphorical sense but literally red. A mass of red...something, Jenny thought, washed towards the near bank of the river. The people out in the water were attempting to fish the mass to shore, though many of them were shying away now, apparently realising what made up the red tide.
Jenny craned her neck again and tried to make out more of the details. She could see none and looked up to Vastra with a quirked brow. Vastra too stood on tiptoes with her back straightened, head lifted high.
"Madame?" Jenny said, genuine panic in her tone. The stench was overwhelming now, worse even than the charnel smells of their home when first they had entered it. Sickly and cloying, it made her stomach clench painfully. Jenny tugged on Vastra's arm, forcing her friend to look back at her, "Madame, what's going on?"
"That red mass in the river," Vastra indicated it with a twitch of her veil, "I had thought it some sort of algae."
"But it isn't?"
"No, my dear, it appears to be much worse than that. Come, we must get closer."
To Jenny's surprise that wasn't as difficult as she anticipated. The closer the mass came to the riverbank, the more the crowd above eased away from it. The two women were one of only a few brave souls pushing forward against the rapid retreat. Vastra couldn't blame them and she glanced down to see that even her usually unflappable companion was paling visibly.
"Brave heart, my dear," Vastra said, patting Jenny's hand before releasing it to free her arm.
The judicious use of her elbows had them through the ebbing tide of humanity and staring down on the river. Yes, Vastra realised with mounting horror, this red mass was a great deal more than algae. Parts of the whole were becoming more distinct to her eye and she regretted it deeply.
Jenny gasped and Vastra understood the reaction all too well; the red mass which had at first seemed to be a single entity was nothing of the sort. Instead of some swirling, shifting mass of red organic material, it was a floating pile of a very different sort of organic material. Human bodies.
Human but not whole, a horrifiying collection of parts. Arms and legs... the twisted remains of torsos that jutted out at strange angles... even heads, some with eyes closed in a parody of rest... and some with eyes open and staring.
"Madame!" Jenny hissed beside her, pulling on Vastra's arm.
Vastra allowed herself to be manoeuvred a little and then followed Jenny's outstretched hand to stare down at one particular point towards the far edge of the red horror. She stared, wishing that she might remove her heavy lace veil to take a clearer look. She could see nothing but another area of tortured human flesh, flayed raw, all of it seeming to scream out a silent agony.
"Madame," Jenny's hand shook as she stretched on her toes, a finger pointing at a specific area, "look!"
Vastra strained to see and then the writhing, twisted mass resolved itself into one single point of horror. One single, distinguishable point of human tragedy. A face, scarred red from some sort of bite marks, though the remaining skin appeared to have a strangely golden hue to it. A young woman's face, pretty once but now ravaged and hideous.
Miss Ellen Hawthorne's face.
To be concluded in The Case Of The Red Goddess